


Acquired Taste

by DustToDust



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 06:14:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DustToDust/pseuds/DustToDust
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gotham can be finicky about some things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Acquired Taste

**Author's Note:**

> Some things make you wonder.

Tim's first project at Wayne Enterprises is a blank slate. Lucius Fox giving him carte blanche to do whatever he wants. It's a gift and a test all at once, and Tim knows exactly what he wants to do.

He wastes no time gathering a team affiliated with the part of the business that used to be just Wayne Foods. The rumors and snide remarks start circulating then. The company has been told of Tim's intelligence, his ease with technology, and here he is using what is essentially a blank check to play with _food_. It get's worse when one of the interns he's required to humor proves to have loose lips, and the company finds out the vaunted Wayne heir is going to be marketing _bottled water_.

Tim doesn't need to pretend not to hear the laughs or see the sneers behind his back only because they're not hidden anymore. WE provides food services mainly for Gotham and the surrounding areas, and bottled water has never been a good seller except in emergencies. A frequent occurrence in Gotham, but not enough to make a significant profit.

He smiles and voices empty words when confronted, and the company writes him off for the most part. Just another Wayne boy with his silly ideas that need to be kept in check for the good of the company as a whole. Only Lucius gives Tim the benefit of the doubt. Giving him a wry smile that lets him know he isn't underestimating Tim.

It takes three months of testing to get the water to Tim's liking. Two months to work up a label and marketing strategy. A month longer than it should have if the marketing department hadn't treated the whole thing like it's corrosive and likely to taint them with contact. Tim smiles at their open exasperation and hostility and reminds himself that this is the last time he'll have to put up with their attitude. Any of the company's attitude.

He has to prove himself first before he can start running things the way they need to be run.

The water rolls out with little fanfare in Gotham, and a lot in certain areas of the country. Seemingly picked at random. Gotham's Finest, because it'd made Dick snort coffee out of his nose and a small tick go off in Bruce's face, and Tim feels a fierce satisfaction in spreading some of the ridiculousness he's dealt with around. It's the butt of every joke at WE. Whispered about behind Tim's back and boldly stated to his face.

Sales figures are expectedly dismal the first month and the second. Focus groups of random people in the first month in other cities are negative. Very negative. There's something off about the taste of the water that the consumers don't like. There's talk of discontinuing the line, but Tim ends that talk with maybe a little more brutality than warranted. He's tired of the scoffing ans sneers though, and he's about to be proven right.

The third month is completely different. There's an upswing in the sales. Sharp enough to make people notice. The fourth month is better, as is the fifth, and sales in Gotham --almost non-existent-- crashes through the roof abruptly. Focus groups of Gotham return positive reports with no mention of the aftertaste that had been previously reported. Secondary groups in the other cities is limited to people who buy the water willingly and the results are the same.

Tim gets baffled looks as sales continue to go up, and the notoriously fickle market in Gotham is cracked wide open. The inquires start off gentle and Tim deflects them with nonsense about vitamins. Gotham's Finest becomes the preferred water of Gotham itself. Some bright guy figures out that a startlingly number of people buying their product across the country are Gothamite ex-pats. Requests come in from areas that Gotham's people seem to gravitate to around the world. Businesses and hospitality industries that pride themselves on providing only the very best for their client's very specific tastes. 

No one apologizes to Tim, but project requests begin coming through. The people he works with start to look at him like he knows what he might be doing, and that's when Tim takes the gloves off. WE learns to listen to what Timothy Drake-Wayne says, and Tim can hand off the water project to someone else. With strict instructions on what to not change about the product.

"I don't get it," Dick rolls a bottle between his hands. Holding it up to the light as if he could see something different about it. "It just tastes like _water_."

Tim smiles as he settles into the armchair across the room. The old line about vitamins comes to his lips automatically, but Tim bites it back because this is Dick and he doesn't need to lie. "It tastes like tap water actually. _Gotham_ tap water."

Dick gives him a raised eyebrow, prodding for more as he lazes out across the entire width of a couch.

"Gotham water is different, Dick. We pull it out from a ground well before running it through treatment," Tim eases his tight shoes off and tucks them under the chair. Stretching his toes out with a sigh. "It's Gotham, Dick. You know the groundwell isn't untainted, right?"

"Tainted," Dick narrows his eyes. It's a thoughtful look though. "With what?"

"Joker Venom, Fear toxin," Tim lists off the most prominent chemicals found in the city's tap water. "Some of Ivy's earlier chemicals still show up," he shrugs, "pretty much everything that gets used in the city sinks into the water. It's small doses, not enough to effect people, but it's there still."

"Are you saying," Dick asks very carefully and blandly, "that you put all of that into plastic bottles and sold it?"

"No," Tim denies. Appreciating that Dick's not automatically jumping to conclusions. "But all of it does have distinct taste, and I've managed to produce a flavoring that doesn't mimic any of the effects."

"Huh," Dick goes back to examining the bottle. Unscrewing the cap to take a cautious sip. He still looks baffled. "I don't taste it."

"That's the point," Tim smiles with satisfaction. "We pretty much grew up on that taste. It's normal for anyone in Gotham, and that's why bottled water never catches on here. It doesn't have that taste that we've gotten used to."

Dick grins and laughs. Tim grins right back, because it's funny. Gotham getting so used to the various chemicals used by the night crowd they developed a taste for it. They didn't notice that it was there, but they sure noticed when it was gone. 

And then, they wanted it back.


End file.
